Rainy Days in Russia
by linkingworlds
Summary: Rainy days always meant treats back home. Unfortunately for Pavel Chekov, he's missing a few key ingredients...that is, nearly all of them. While braving the elements, he runs into a fellow crew member, only to find that she's on a similar mission...and probably saving him from catching a cold. (OCxChekov; oneshot)


It was a small sound, like the pitter-patter of a child's footsteps as they tried to sneak out of their room on Christmas morning. People all across the city missed the tiny splash of raindrops on windows and the quiet build-up to the heaviest downpour of the last four years.

Pavel Chekov had been watching the rain. The first droplet, spattering against his apartment window, had immediately caught his attention. The knowledge that it was raining was enough to bring a quiet smile to his face, but the man remained in his arm chair, book in hand, and thought little of the weather.

Soon, the rain began to fall harder. Fat droplets rattled the glass windows, demanding he pay them their due. It had been many years since the rain had captured his interest so thoroughly, but the brewing storm was impossible to ignore.

Wordlessly, Pavel rose from his seat, leaving his book flat on the cushions. Drawn by the steady spray, he moved closer to the window, his smile growing wider as he recalled days spent in his parents' company. There was a fire in the hearth, and his mama would make her special homemade vatrushka, which was Pavel's favorite treat. He could recall a number of rainy days spent in front of a window, tracing the droplets' paths with his finger, and listening to the quiet voices of his parents as they, too, enjoyed the stillness.

He set one finger against the glass, following a particularly large drop as it tumbled down to his windowsill, disappearing in a small puddle that had formed. He missed days like this…days when his only responsibilities were to enjoy himself. It was a wonderful and much needed break from the fast pace of his recent Starfleet missions.

Pavel wandered away from the window, drifting into his kitchen while remaining lost in a bout of nostalgia. He half-expected to smell the sweet scent of sugar and honey, topped with his mama's homemade jam, which was a far cry from the near-sterile smell of his mostly unused kitchen. Instead of thinking about it, he began rummaging through his cabinets, taking a quick mental inventory of his jumble of ingredients.

"дерьмо…"* He murmured.

What was a day like this without his mama's vatrushka? He had to make some, or at least try to, but…the sorry state of his kitchen would have to be remedied first. He was missing at least half of the ingredients!

It was a matter of minutes before he'd donned a pair of boots and a dark green pea coat, only just remembering to grab his umbrella from the stand beside his door as he ventured into the rain.

There was a small convenience store just a couple of blocks from his complex. It was sure to have everything he needed and then some, making this trip a quick one. At least, that had been the plan. He was already halfway there when he saw a mother duck and four little ducklings trying to march through the downpour. It was slow going, and the mother duck kept pausing to encourage her babies when they stopped, who in turn would stop again and chirp in distress moments later.

Pavel completely forgot about his original plan while watching the little family. Slowly, he walked closer to them, noting the warning glare the mother duck gave him. He inched a little closer anyway, holding his umbrella over the ducklings and their mama, smiling as the tiny, fluffy birds shook themselves dry beneath their newfound shelter. The mother continued to stare at him for a long moment, as if sizing him up. Was he a threat? Would he dare hurt her nestlings?

...no, she eventually decided. This human was safe. Helpful. Good.

The march began again, and this time Pavel followed the group closely, being sure to keep his umbrella over the ducks. He, in turn, was getting soaked. His brown curls stuck to his head in damp little clumps and stray raindrops slid down the collar of his jacket, making him shiver. He thought, briefly, of what his crewmates would think of him. Risking his health by venturing out in this weather, just to make sweets, and even worse, giving up his umbrella to a family of ducks?

"You are a strange one, Pavel." The voice, which seemed to echo his thoughts, startled him. He'd been so wrapped up in protecting the tiny birds that he hadn't realized someone else was outside with them. He paused, and as the ducks realized their shelter had stopped moving with them, they paused too. "…you're going to get sick." He turned towards the voice, and as he did, he realized the rain was no longer falling on him.

Standing beside him, holding her over-sized umbrella above both of their heads, was one of the crewmates he had just been thinking about. She looked to be considerably drier than he was, but damp spots glistened on her black military-style coat and her rain boots were splattered with mud. He wondered how long she'd been out here, and why she would've gone out in the first place. It wasn't until he caught sight of the plastic bag in her other hand that he realized her intentions must've been the same as his: last minute shopping.

Pavel smiled brightly at her. "Hello, Noa!" He could've sworn her cheeks flushed slightly after his greeting, but she turned her head a moment later and frowned. Pavel continued to smile, knowing such behavior wasn't unusual for the woman.

"Why are you even out in this?" Noa asked, her voice a little harsher than she'd wanted it to be. "…please tell me you didn't come out to help the ducks."

Although her question was completely serious, Pavel just laughed. "No, no! They just seemed to need help, that is all!" As if to punctuate his statement, the mother duck quacked impatiently at the two of them. Pavel reached out to grab Noa's wrist, pulling her with him as he moved forward, continuing to provide a mobile shelter for the birds. The redheaded woman squeaked in surprise as she was pulled, but didn't fight his hold or his lead, instead following after the group and, while no one was looking at her, smiling at the man's selflessness.

It only took a few minutes of walking for the ducks to find their own place of shelter to weather out the storm. An empty space beneath a gnarled bunch of tree roots made the perfect home, temporary though it was. The mother duck settled herself in the little hole, while her children tucked themselves beneath her, nestling in contentedly. It was only once they seemed safe from the storm that Pavel turned back to Noa, raising his umbrella over his head again, surprised to see the smile on her face.

"Why are _you_ out here?" He asked. She'd never struck him as the type to enjoy rain as much as he did, but then, he could be wrong. She paused a moment, as if surprised that he'd even asked.

"…you're going to think it's stupid." She finally muttered, eyes drifting away to watch raindrops splatter in a nearby puddle. It was hard to keep from noticing how the grey of her irises so easily matched the grey of the storm clouds. He paused a moment just to watch her before responding.

"Never." He said, and was glad to see her eyes return to his.

She took a moment to regain her nerve before replying. "…when I was younger, my mother and father weren't home much. When they were, it was often because it was raining outside and they…weren't particularly fond of being out in it. I, however, liked the puddles, so my mother tried to find ways to entice me to stay inside and not make such a mess." Noa paused again, this time to laugh quietly. "She hated cleaning up after me. So instead of having to put up with that, she…she made this treat from when she was a little girl. It's called bara brith, and it's this cake-like bread, and…w-well…I just wanted to make some for myself, what with all the rain, but…"

"…you didn't have the ingredients?" Pavel finished for her, smiling widely. He received a small nod in return, as well as an embarrassed smile. "You're not the only one, Noa." He continued, an idea forming in his mind. "Actually, I was going to the store to get ingredients to make my mama's vatrushka…I'd love to have someone to share it with, and…your bara brith sounds delicious, if you'd like to share?"

For a brief moment, Noa was silent, seeming unsure. Pavel just kept smiling hopefully at her, eager to have some company. Finally, much to his relief, a smile spread across his friend's face as she nodded.

"That sounds great, Pavel." Noa said, letting her grocery bag slide back to hang from her wrist so she could take his hand in hers. "I'd say it's about time some new traditions were made."

*(дерьмо = crap)

Author's Notes

* * *

Some of you may have seen a picture of Anton Yelchin (that is, Pavel Chekov's actor in the reboot) holding an umbrella over a family of ducks. My friend was cruel enough to send this picture to me, thus inspiring this fic. ...plus it's always fun to think of these two as a ship, because then I can call them Novel. I love word play.  
Also of note, if you're interested in learning more about Noa, don't worry. More is on the way.


End file.
